I didn't get the role I wanted for The Importance of Being Ernest, which would have been Ernest. I got the part of the rector, Doctor Chasuble, which wasn't too bad. After that I performed in a string of other performances before deciding to get a job doing something else. I found a bookshop in Mildaley town centre, starting in retail, and before I knew it, I'd become assistant manager.
I think I've told you all I can about my line of work.
Today I decided to take Kimberley out to dinner to cheer her up after yesterday. Apparently a sales girl in Madames spat at her for being casually dressed. I hope Kimberley didn't treat her too badly afterwards. She's a strong-willed woman, and she's not afraid to say or do anything drastic to get what she wants. She should have been a lawyer. She went for a law degree actually, but she was taken off the course in her third year because she had a nervous breakdown. I didn't know her at the time, so I couldn't tell you what that was about.
Anyway, Kimbo and I decided to go to Gino's because I don't like a pizza that's too greasy and she likes food that's expensive and tastes good. As always, I pay for the dinner and she pays me back afterwards, not necessarily in money. That's the deal we've had since I can remember. I won't lie, she enjoys the meal and if we decide the dessert will taste better in bed we'll go to a hotel and she likes that too.
This time around, I decide to let Kimbo know about my wife's suspicions. The one weekend I brought Kimbo back to the house when Shell (short for Michelle) was at a competent parenting course, she came back to find a long blonde hair in the toilet bowl. I had to lie and say it was from a toupee I'd been trying on. She knew I was sensitive about my baldness so it kept her quiet, but Shell is suspicious. I told Kimberley, who didn't seem to be taking the concept very seriously. She wanted to know, in her frostiest voice, what I was getting at, so I told her that from now on we'd be seeing each other... less frequently.
So Kimberley was upset and began making a scene, but we were interrupted by the main course arriving. We eat pizza in different ways; I like to cut mine into pieces because it's easier to chew that way - she likes to eat the crust (her least favourite bit) to get it over with, and then will roll the base up and eat it that way. She is a funny lass.
But today, she was eating less. I asked what was the matter, and she replied, 'Oh, nothing. But if you think you're getting laid after this you've got another thing coming.' I was upset not just because I was in the mood, but because she'd broken our deal. I said, 'Well listen, how about we go halves on the dinner and leave it there?' And she said, 'Oh no you don't. This piece of paper says you pay for the diner AND decide out of the goodness of your bloody heart to tip me generously for all my past services.' And then she handed me the paper, and it has my wife's mobile number written on it. God knows how she found that out.
So we finished the dinner, which took an excruciatingly long time. She called the waiter over to refill her glass about three times and selected a very pricey dessert. And i had to go along with it, because if I didn't, my wife was going to find out in the most inelegant manner possible that I'd been shagging a woman I met in a bar.